


I am Not a Vessel for your Good Intent

by MrMissMrsRandom



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: And unknowingly push each other's trauma buttons, Burns, Friendship, Garreg Mach's chuuni brats decide to help each other improve their hidden talents, Gen, In a sense, School Phase, Written originally for the Our House Zine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:53:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25412695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrMissMrsRandom/pseuds/MrMissMrsRandom
Summary: Felix's scheduled training time had gained an annoying but useful interloper.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius & Lysithea von Ordelia
Comments: 3
Kudos: 27





	I am Not a Vessel for your Good Intent

It was a normal day for Felix in Garreg Mach Monastery. Lectures had finished for the day, and he was spending his free time before the evening meal practicing sword moves. Some days he switched to gauntlets, or even attempting (and failing at) reason magic. The professor had gotten the strange idea that he could learn it after his father visited. Which was ridiculous. He’d trained for years with a blade, so much so that it came naturally to him. Any other “hidden talents” were absolutely ridiculous. 

As the sun began to dip in the sky, he felt eyes on him.

Felix finished decimating the training mannequin before turning back. “Show yourself.”

He didn’t yell that loud, but that didn’t make his voice any less annoyed by the interruption. He’d picked this specific part of the training grounds so he would not be disturbed.

A face covered in a mop of white hair peeked out from behind a pillar. 

Felix sighed. Again with this nonsense? He didn’t have time for it. 

“What do you want?” 

“Nothing at all,” Lysithea replied in a higher-pitched tone. After taking a few shared lectures with her, Felix understood that tone meant she’d come for something. He rolled his eyes. Honestly, she was so insistent on not being treated like a child, but she was sometimes mercurial enough for such claims to fall on deaf ears. “I only came to ask about the cake I made for you, but… you were busy with training, so I decided to wait, so as not to interrupt.”

“It was too sweet,” Felix said flatly, then turned back to the scattered dummy. “You asked, I answered. Now leave.”

“Wait!” 

Felix sighed, turning to face her again. “Don’t take all day then. Spit it out.” 

“Stop being so rude,” Lysithea replied snippily. “I was getting to it. I’ve… actually been watching for a while, and I was curious about some of your moves.”

Well, that was a surprise. “I thought you were more interested in magic.”

“Just because I have an aptitude in it doesn’t mean it’s my sole interest. Are you only interested in swords?” 

“Of course not.” After all, he was learning hand to hand combat too. 

“Exactly.” Lysithea smiled. “So, will you show me how to do it too? I promise to make it worth your while!”

“I’m not accepting  _ cake  _ as payment—“ 

“I-I wasn’t going to offer that! Well, not just that.” 

Lysithea raised her hand, and with only a few hushed incantations, a flame appeared in her palm. “I heard the Professor mention something about how you could look into learning magic. Why don’t we have an exchange? You teach me more of those moves, and I’ll help you in your arcane studies.” 

Felix stared at the flame. A mix of apprehension and curiosity struggled for control within him. He knew he had the potential for magic, but he had never attempted to harness it. His father knew how to wield it, and to even hint that he was following that man’s footsteps filled him with revulsion. What was more, Glenn had practiced the arcane as well, and that hadn’t saved him either. 

Yet, he’d seen how Lysithea moved on the battlefield: agile, quick as the wind, dodging weapon attacks, then sending forth a beam of energy into her foe. Lysithea, despite her young age, was exceptional in magic. If he wanted to properly use the arcane, he would have to learn from someone exceptional in its application. 

“Fine,” Felix replied. 

Lysithea sour face unpuckered into a bright, uncontained grin. “Wonderful! Now, I have to see if the kitchens have any leftover ingredients for the cake!” 

Felix couldn’t hold back a growl of frustration. “Didn’t I make clear that I don’t want any more cake?” 

* * *

For the next few months, several days each week, Felix spent his free afternoon instructing Lysithea in sword forms, and she taught him magic. In turn, she came to each practice with a small parcel and a new tome of sorcery. He would have her work until the sweat dripped from her brow, strengthening her stances and endurance as well as practicing movements. 

Despite favoring the scholarly arts, Felix had to hand it to her: Lysithea was driven. She wanted to excel in all skills and did so without paying lip service to such ridiculous things as chivalry, or working to improve the Alliance, or other such drivel that salivated past most student’s lips at the academy. 

When she couldn’t hold her sword aloft any longer, they sat beside the training grounds. After Lysithea took a moment to catch her breath, she would unwrap the parcel with barely concealed glee, revealing another small cake for him to try as they pored over the reading. 

Much of it was beyond even what the professor had him study in class, but Lysithea kept her word about guiding him. She would explain the complex diagrams, then certain techniques people used to call forth anima magic. There were times when she asked if he wanted to learn anything based on faith casting, and Felix refused. He didn’t want to heal, or smite his enemies in some divine light, or ask for the Goddess’s blessing. He just wanted to know how to kill enemies faster. No need to pretty up actions like that with ‘divine blessings.’ 

“Now, we’ve tried fire and wind invocations, but none of those worked appropriately. Which figures.” Lysithea spoke, her chin still covered in cake crumbs. 

Felix glared. “If it was so obvious, why waste time trying to make me get it to work?” 

“I needed to get to know you a bit better as a person first. Crests may have led many to believe that they hold bearing on a person’s magical aptitude, but scholarly research has proved that such findings have no backing. For many, it is based on drive and essence.” 

“Essence?” 

“Yes! Essence can determine which magic you are most drawn to. Some argue that upbringing has a fair amount of power in deciding one’s magical essence, but in your case, you fight against that.”

Felix’s eyes narrowed. “I fight it?”

“Yes. The current Duke Fraldarius has skills in holy magic, but you don’t want to take that path.” 

Felix stood up.

“Relax, I was just stating my observations.” Lysithea grabbed his sleeve and pulled him back down. Either she had grown used to his glare, or she had never heeded it in the first place. 

“Then  _ what _ is the point you’re trying to make?” 

“Raise your hand out, like you do when you’re about to attack with your sword.”

“What for?” 

Lysithea rolled her eyes. “Are you being deliberately stubborn? Enough of that nonsense. I’ve followed your instruction every step of the way without complaint. You could at least do the same.” 

Felix glared a few moments more, before doing what he was instructed to do. 

“Now, say this incantation…” 

The ancient words tasted like metal on his tongue. There was an ache in his palm that grew up his arm. 

The air grew sour, and a bolt of light traveled from out of his veins through to his fingertips. They crackled and curled into several. The training dummy in front of them burst into flames. 

Lysithea’s face morphed with a grin of triumph. “See? Now you’ve learned not to doubt me.” 

Felix, however, felt a searing pain shoot up around his arm, and he crumbled to a crouch, clutching it to his chest. 

A smaller hand touched his shoulder. “Are you alright?” 

“What do you think?” he said tersely, hunching over and trying to will the pain away. It took a few minutes for Lysithea to get him to hold it up and allow her to unbutton and roll up the cuff. The veins along his arm bulged out and turned a virulent blue. Lysithea raised her hand over it, muttering a few words until they were bathed in a gentle glow. The pain ebbed away, but the scars remained. 

Felix pulled his arm away for closer inspection, then tsked in frustration. Scars weren’t a big deal for him, but that it was caused by his own actions was pathetic. 

“It’s okay. You just had a backfire. It happens all the time.”

Despite his image, Felix couldn’t help but make a bitter retort. “Easy for you to say.” 

“I’m not exaggerating: feel the palms of my hands.”

Felix raised an eyebrow, but raised his uninjured hand too, and pressed down a finger as directed. Lysithea had begun to grow similar calluses from sword fighting, but around it, her skin was hard and cracked. 

“What did this?” 

“Fire, over time,” Lysithea replied. “I asked Professor Manuela about it before. Though my body is resistant to magic, that doesn’t mean I can handle it unscathed, especially when I was first starting out. I was pretty reckless.” 

“And how are you any different now?”

“How rude!” Lysithea snatched her hand away with a scowl. “Well, enough training today. I have to eat this cake before it gets dry.” 

And with that, she switched the subject and began to devour her piece. 

What was with this girl? She was similar to the girls (well, one girl) he was close to in childhood in some ways, yet entirely different in others. Lysithea was driven and skilled like Ingrid and had a penchant for stuffing her face, but beyond that, they were nothing alike. 

Felix continued to ponder these differences as he reluctantly ate his own piece of cake.

It was still too sweet.

* * *

Despite her best efforts, there was only so much practice someone could take and apply. Lysithea’s body was still physically weak. No matter how much she pressed on, there would not be any clear results to show for it. 

“Stupid…” Lysithea muttered, planting her practice sword in the ground as she caught her breath.

“You’ve mastered that strike. It took me up until last Wyvern Moon to do so, and I was practicing it for seasons.” Felix stated. It was the furthest he would get to admitting a weakness.

“It’s useless if I can’t even slash the dummy,” Lysithea answered. 

“Strength isn’t everything. You pick up forms quickly, and you’re fast. As long as you get a hit, that’s what matters.” 

He stepped forward, and patted her head. “You did well. Why don’t we see if that cake you made is still too sweet--” 

_ “Don’t touch me!”  _ Lysithea snarled. The sword fell to the ground, and Felix got shoved away with a surprising amount of force. 

Felix stepped back. Her strength didn’t do much, but the ferociousness of Lysithea’s reaction held his tongue. Before he could unlock it again, Lysithea had struggled to her feet, giving a short excuse of being “unwell,” and then marched off the training grounds. Felix didn’t go after her. He didn’t understand her tantrum, and in her state, it wasn’t as if she could explain herself. 

Sure enough, she came back at their next scheduled appointment, only this time without a tome or cake box. Felix ignored the small spark of hurt when he did. He was used to disappointment, by this point. No one was ever what they seemed, anyway. 

He went back to swinging his sword. “So, coming to tell me in person you’ve given up? Don’t expect me to give you another chance.” 

“No.” Lysithea’s face looked remarkably solemn. “I’ve come to talk to you about something else.”

They sat along the sidelines where they usually did, and in a voice that was the softest he had ever heard Lysithea’s imperious tone, she showed Felix her weaknesses. Why she began at the Officer’s Academy so early, why she was so determined to read whatever scholarship she could get her hands on, why she asked him to help her learn the sword. Why she had white hair. 

“... You,” Felix said, his fists tightening. “Are dying.”

“Yes,” Lysithea answered in a way bereft of sorrow. Dealt with far too many times. “All this power was the blessing of my Crests, at a great personal cost.” 

Felix felt the magic scar along his arm ache from the force of his grip. It didn’t make sense. Lysithea had been a child. She was still a child. “And your parents just sat back, and did nothing?”

“They didn’t have a choice. It was… a punishment.”

“No,” Felix answered. “A punishment means retribution for someone’s actions. House Ordelia committed those actions, not you. And yet, the thing you want to search for isn’t a cure, it isn’t a way to fix this… but to make sure that after you’re gone your parents remain  _ comfortable _ ?” 

“It wasn’t my parents who did this!” Lysithea fired back. “I told you so you could understand. And-- and I thought you would. We’ve both lost people, and we have a duty too--”

“To hell with duty!” 

Felix stood up. “What has duty ever done for either of us?! I’m sick of it. You deserve to be angry, but all you do is let them use you.”

Lysithea rose to her feet, fire in her eyes. “It’s my life! I get to control how I spend it!” 

“Lysithea—”

Lysithea’s voice grew cold. “You act like you don’t care about anything, so why should you care about this? If you are going to spend whatever time I have remaining on this earth lecturing me about such matters, you are wasting my time.” 

She left again.

Felix did not follow. Instead, he decimated a dummy until his arms ached too much for his mind to think anymore. 

* * *

Lysithea didn’t come to practice the next day, or the day after that. But there were still cake slices left by his door. 

Felix hated it. But he ate them anyway. If he ate enough of them, would she understand and talk to him again—?

Why should he care about this? It was… training. Yeah, this was about training. He would just find someone else, someone stronger to spar with, like before.

…

“Dammit…” he hissed. 

It didn’t reassure him. 

* * *

_ Lysithea,  _

_ I want to talk to you in person. You keep leaving me cake slices, and I keep eating them. But I’m not paying you back for it. Either talk to me or stop wasting your time. _

_ I am not eating them out of pity. I eat them because I enjoy them. You improved on the recipe, just like you’ve improved your swordsmanship. You don’t look at me on the battlefield, but I see you.That trick you pulled with your blade was impressive. If you don’t want to keep training with me, ask the Professor, or even the Thunderbrand to give you tips.  _

_ You are probably shredding this to pieces after that. Telling you to find someone else to train you. Well, I got what I needed to write, so that’s fine. _

_ I haven’t written a letter this long in years. Maybe ever.  _

_ It’s because you’re avoiding me I can’t make regular snipes. Everything is building up and I can’t let it out. _

_ Talk to me. _

_ Felix Hugo Fraldarius  _

* * *

It was a week after he sent the letter that he received one in return: a request to meet for tea in the garden. Lysithea was forcing him to come to her, in her territory. Felix almost declined but decided this was more important than his pride, for once. 

She was there with cake and tea, waiting for him to get settled. 

He grimaced at the spread, but when he took a sip from the brew, it was Almyran Pine Needles. His favorite. 

Lysithea looked at him calmly. “Comfortable?”

“As much as I’ll ever be.” Felix set the cup back down. “If you’re looking for an apology, I can’t give that to you. I still stand by my thoughts.”

“And I by mine,” Lysithea answered, leaning forward to cut two slices of cake, both of which she put on Felix’s plate. A silent challenge. “As I told you, I have no time for questioning or looking back on what should or shouldn’t have happened. If I spent the rest of my life chained by my rage, what good would that do me or anyone else?”

That sounded very close to forgiveness, but not quite. And unlike the boar, Lysithea’s words seemed to come from a place of understanding. Still, Felix had to check.

“If you found the ones who did this to you, what would you do?”

“Kill them,” Lysithea replied. There was nothing savage in her tone: only dead assurance. “Without hesitation. I would turn what they gave me into their undoing, and make sure it never happened again.” 

Felix raised an eyebrow. “Are you willing to deal with the consequences of such a rampage, then? You talk about—“

“Do  _ not  _ lecture me. It’s what brought us here in the first place.” Lysithea’s eyes flashed in warning, before she sighed. “All I ask… is for you to understand. If not to understand, then at least accept my path. And if you can’t, then we can still separate amicably as fellow students.” 

“... Lysithea.” The next words he said were nearly forced out of him. “It’s your life. You aren’t living a lie, and you aren’t attempting to give excuses. I admire that about you.” 

The girl’s eyes widened. The absolute shock of it stilled his tongue for a moment, and he realized something: Lysithea hadn’t had people like Ingrid, or Sylvian, or even Dimitri before Glenn’s death, growing up. If she once had, they were taken in to undergo those experiments. 

“But I know you’re not the sort of person to just give in to things so easily. You will find someone to help you, and then we’ll both keep training to be better.”

“Felix… that’s the most sentimental thing I’ve ever heard you say.” 

Felix began to sip his tea loudly. “Shut up.”

“I won’t.” But Lysithea was grinning, happy, and carefree. 

He would allow himself to be sentimental, just this once. 


End file.
